Committed
by Ruralstar
Summary: What does it mean to be committed to someone? Ep tag for s5 finale "Now or Never" Cristina/Owen, Derek/Meredith.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Grey's Anatomy is the property of ABC, Shonda Rhimes and Co. No copyright infringement is intended.

Committed—Part One

Three weeks after Isobel Stevens' sudden death, George O'Malley's recovery was still in question. The entire class of second-year Residents remained on edge. Even those who only knew Stevens or O'Malley in passing were showing signs of stress. Grief, fear and frustration had led to small errors in judgment. Though Meredith was of personal concern, Derek felt he should be doing more for all of them. He was not alone. All of the Attendings were hyper-vigilant of the Residents and keenly aware of the pressure to prevent potentially fatal mistakes.

Derek pushed open the door to the Emerald City bar and stepped into the convivial warmth of strangers' conversations. He needed a few minutes of respite from that pressure and hoped a quiet drink would recharge his waning batteries. He was halfway to the bar when he spotted Owen Hunt sitting on the end stool partially hidden in the shadows by the wall. Derek sighed and considered turning around. The hospital grapevine was almost as efficient as the internet. Working three floors up had not insulated Derek from one of the day's more dramatic incidents. A pair of accident victims had come into the Pit that afternoon. Massive internal injuries from a head on collision with a tanker truck full of oil. Neither patient survived and Hunt reacted explosively to their deaths. Berating nurses and Residents alike for incompetence, only to call the whole group into a conference room an hour later and apologize. Looking at him now, Derek recognized the same confusion and carefully concealed fear he had seen nearly six weeks ago. It was easy to forget what had happened between Owen and Cristina Yang in the midst of grieving for their colleagues. Especially since the vet seemed to be handling his PTSD so much better recently. Relaxation would have to wait, Derek decided. "Buy you a beer?" he offered when he reached the empty stool next to Owen.

"Whiskey." Owen shoved an empty shot glass towards the center of the bar.

Taking the hint, Derek signaled Joe for two more shots and sat down. He waited until the drinks were delivered and the barman moved off before speaking again. "I heard about today."

Owen's fingers curled around the glass as he studied the wall of bottles behind the bar.

"I'm sorry."

The reply was a barely perceptible nod.

Derek had grown to respect Hunt both professionally and personally. Faced with silence, he opted for the direct approach. "What happened in the Pit? We lose patients all the time and it hurts like hell. But this is different."

"You changing specialties, Shepherd? Trading neurology for psychology?" Owen's grip tightened on the glass, sloshing whiskey onto his fingers and the bar.

"No, just being proactive. I think you know why I'm asking."

Owen snorted a laugh and rubbed his free hand across the back of his neck.

"One of the victims reminded you of something—or someone?" Derek did not expect Owen to meet his eyes. It was a hard question and they were strangers even after all these months. The vet's sudden, intense glance surprised and unnerved him more than a little.

"Yes and no." Owen downed the shot and centered the glass in the puddle of spilled liquor.

"You don't have to tell me anything," Derek said eventually. "But you had better talk to someone…Wyatt, Cristina, someone, because the last time you looked like this…"

"Was the morning after," Owen murmured, a grimace curling his lips. "I appreciate the advice. I know who to call."

"This hasn't been an easy time for any of us. You're not alone here."

"I think you've all got enough to think about."

Derek signaled Joe for a second drink. Owen declined another round and leaned against the wall as the bartender deposited the fresh shot and wiped away the spill. "Doesn't make your situation any less important," Derek assured when they were alone again. He wondered how long it would take for Owen to respond or if he would even choose to. The silence stretched out, blotting out the conversations that surrounded them.

He was relieved when Owen finally spoke in a low monotone. "There was a guy in my old unit named Evan Nichols. Smart, steady under pressure, damn good pool player. The patient today had red hair and grey eyes like his. Same first name…same cause of death." Owen's sigh was deep, shaky, as his eyes dropped to the floor. Derek sat very still and listened. "Massive internal injuries and burns caused by the explosion of the truck they ran into…the bomb that went off…" Owen straightened his back against the wall and cleared his throat. His eyes were bright but clear when he looked up. "Some days are better than others."

Derek nodded slowly. He was not sure what to say in light of Hunt's trust. Here lay the vestiges of the Owen that existed before his discharge, minus the arrogance that had gotten so immediately under Derek's skin. "You show up, you keep going, isn't that what you told me out at the trailer?" he reminded before throwing back the second shot.

Owen laughed beneath his breath and turned to rest both arms on the bar. "I didn't think you were listening."

"I got most of it," Derek admitted. "Is that what you're doing with Cristina? Showing up?"

Owen continued to stare at the wall, his posture noticeably stiffer. "Is that what Meredith told you?"

"I'm asking you."

"Cristina is safe around me." Owen shrugged and some of the tension seemed to ease as he turned towards Derek. "I wouldn't go near her if I didn't believe that."

Derek swallowed the sudden urge to laugh. Never in his wildest imagination did he ever expect to be put in the position of protecting Cristina Yang. Then again, there were more pressing personal stakes to consider. "Meredith asked me to talk to you." He raised a placating hand at Owen's wary expression. "That's not why I came in here tonight but I think it's only fair that you know how angry she still is about what happened that night."

"How angry _she_ is?" Owen shook his head. "I know she's your wife but this isn't about her feelings. Cristina and I have enough to work through without any added pressure."

"Cristina is Meredith's person."

"Her what?"

"Her person." Derek groaned inwardly. He felt like an idiot explaining the concept to another man, though he recognized something eerily similar between Mark and himself. "They're like sisters. Closer than sisters, actually. I know Meredith won't tell Lexie half of what she tells Cristina. You haven't forgotten what it was like working with them on the William Dunn case?"

Owen snorted a laugh. "That period isn't as clear as I would like but no, I haven't forgotten."

The sound of Miranda Bailey's slightly mocking, _"Those two come as a set. You should know that by now,"_ echoed through the back of Derek's mind. "You don't want to get between them," he said.

"Uh huh." Owen reached for the bowl of pretzels in the center of the bar and waved to Joe. "I'll have a Guiness and one for my friend here," he ordered when the man came within earshot. He snagged several pretzel sticks and chewed thoughtfully for a minute before saying. "So your wife thought it would be okay for you to run interference on behalf of her _person_?"

This time Derek laughed out loud. The term sounded ridiculous coming from Hunt, as juvenile as Derek felt saying it. Still, it was important and Owen had deduced only half the reason for bringing the subject up in the first place. Joe deposited the beers in front of them and Derek took a bracing swallow before replying. "I'm not here to tell you what to do because if I thought you were dangerous I would have said something a long time ago to Richard."

"I think the hospital grapevine has already taken care of that."

Derek reached for a pretzel. "True. But that doesn't mean you don't have friends here. Or that you shouldn't try and rebuild your life here if that's what you want. It's just that Meredith and to a lesser extent Callie Torres and Miranda Bailey are not going to make that easy for you."

Owen grimaced and took the head off his beer. "Bailey…She's like a mother bear. She sent me after your sorry ass and then laid into mine the night of O'Malley's accident."

"Meredith, Cristina, Alex, George and Izzy are her kids. You can't forget it."

"I know what loyalty is."

"I know you do."

Owen shifted on the stool, his somber blue eyes sliding away to wander the crowded room. "I appreciated what you said in the O.R. that night. About what I was doing in Iraq. I just don't see myself that way. Most guys over there don't. The ones who do…" He sighed deeply. "I appreciate the heads up about Meredith and the others too. But they should know, you should know, that I'm done with limbo. I was stuck for a long time… That night in Cristina's apartment," he swallowed audibly and continued in a stronger voice with eyes focused squarely on Derek. "That night was bottom. I won't always move forward in a straight line. In fact today was definitely harder than I expected. But the dominate direction is up. Cristina has agreed to meet me half way and that's more than I could have hoped for even two months ago." The ghost of a smile lightened Owen's features as he reached for his beer. "You can tell your wife that."

_Wife._ It was the third time Owen had used the term. It sounded, felt, even tasted wrong in Derek's mouth. "She isn't. Not really."

"Excuse me?" Owen licked the foam from his lips and set the pounder glass on the bar. "I thought you two got married the day of O'Malley's accident?"

Derek looked at the beer between his hands. At the time their vows written on a post-it note seemed appropriate. It made Meredith happy, gave her a sense of permanence in the terrible days that followed. He was no longer satisfied with the arrangement—and more than a little uncomfortable explaining the mock ceremony to Owen. "We never made it legal," he said, bringing the beer to his lips. "Never went to city hall or found the hospital chaplain. "

"I see…or maybe I don't."

"I'm not sure I do either."

"So you're waiting for what exactly?"

Derek glared at him, taken aback. "You know what's been going on around here."

"What does that have to do with whether you and Meredith Grey are married or not?"

"Okay, maybe you need to have another chat with Wyatt."

"And maybe I did and that's why I can say this without feeling like I'm going to implode." Owen sighed and rested his arm on the bar. "If you had told me last winter to get my head examined there's a good chance I would have put you through a wall. There's also a good chance I would have gone home and eaten the barrel of the .45 I kept in my bedside table. "

As low as he had been, Derek felt a guilty pang of relief that he had never been suicidal. "Kept?" he repeated carefully.

"_Kept_," Owen enunciated with a wry smile. "The gun isn't the point here. The point is that I'm moving forward. Doesn't mean I don't see what Stevens' death and O'Malley's injuries are doing to the people around me. Doesn't mean I don't hear the anger or feel guilty that he was under a bus instead of in surgery with Richard Webber that day." Owen's free hand was loosely clenched and he pointed his thumb at Derek for emphasis. "I asked Cristina to try again before we knew O'Malley was in that bed. Before Stevens coded. When the dust settled I took her home and I slept on her couch." He chuckled. "The daggers Callie Torres shot me the next morning could have killed an elephant. But I made them both toast and eggs and I called Cristina later in the day. I gave her space but I kept showing up because we both needed it. We both made the commitment to start over." Owen sat back. "What happened to Stevens and O'Malley isn't the reason you and Meredith haven't made things official yet."

"I think she would disagree."

"She probably would but I'm not talking to her. I'm talking to you and what I said that day in the woods is still valid even if it took me a long time to realize what showing up actually means."

"So if you were me and Cristina was Meredith, what would you do?" The scenario seemed to give Owen pause. Derek watched a series of shadows chase across the other man's features, dissolving into a tentative smile. "What?" he prompted impatiently.

"How do you feel about the ocean?"

**To be continued…**


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Grey's Anatomy is the property of ABC, Shonda Rhimes and Co. No copyright infringement is intended.

Committed—Part Two

There were moments in the three weeks since Izzy's death when Cristina tried to talk to her best friend. Emboldened by a lull in their mutual grief or a tiny step forward in George's convalescence, she would approach Meredith and start to speak. Then reality would intervene. Another trauma, another procedure—another life, another death would force her to turn away. Cristina was not naturally sentimental but the repeated reminders of mortality made her acutely aware of how little time she had actually spent with Meredith in recent months. She was determined to reconnect. Izzy, George and especially Owen had taught her life was just too short to keep silent.

Unfortunately the timing of the next opportunity for a conversation could not have been worse. Meredith waylaid Cristina on her way out of the locker room. Derek was going to Joe's for a quiet drink alone and she wondered if tonight would be a good chance to catch up. The implication that Meredith felt equally disconnected was comforting. In hindsight, Cristina realized that her friend's too bright smile should have been a clue that something was amiss. She had been too distracted to notice.

After a morning of minor procedures, Cristina had spent the afternoon with Bailey in surgery. The incident in the Pit was on everyone's lips when she emerged from the O.R. Cristina was instantly concerned. Regular sessions with Wyatt coupled with medication had done wonders to stabilize Owen's emotions. The outburst in the trauma center proved how vulnerable he still was however. Triggers could be anywhere. Cristina wanted to be available if he wished to talk about it. Torn by guilt, she reluctantly opened her mouth to decline Meredith's offer. Something inexplicable changed her mind. She agreed to take-out Thai food and a bottle of wine, and promised herself to call Owen before it got too late. Two hours later, she would regret not heeding her first impulse.

Meredith Grey walked into Cristina's kitchen and dropped the Thai food on the table. She did not even take off her coat before exploding. "Three weeks! When were you going to tell me that you were seeing him again? Half the hospital is talking about the two of you kissing on the bridge the day Izzy died. Not once but twice! When were you going to let me in on this little secret? Before or after he tried to kill you again?"

"What?"

"Hands around your neck? You haven't forgotten that have you? Or how about the day he threw you across the hallway and you told me it was an _accident_? When are you going to open your eyes?" She spun away and stopped. Mouth slightly agape, she raised a finger and pointed at a man's dress shirt draped across the back of a chair. "His?"

Cristina folded her arms. "Yes."

"He's living here now?"

"No." At least not officially, Cristina added silently. Callie had yet to clear all of her stuff out of the apartment. Owen refused to give up his lease until he could move into the second bedroom. They were in love and thought that they could cohabitate as a plausible step forward. But neither of them was crazy enough to believe that they could share a bedroom at this stage of his recovery. Cristina drew a calming breath and tried to remember Meredith's interrogation was prompted by good intentions.

Meredith scowled, clearly skeptical. "The day Izzy died you asked me if I was better after seeing Wyatt. You thought she was a horrible doctor but you wanted to know. That wasn't about me, about our friendship or my relationship with Derek. That was about Owen, wasn't it?"

"Yes."

"I can't believe you…"

"Look!" Cristina snapped. "I'm not good at this stuff. All of this personal crap makes my head hurt. I couldn't just come right out and ask you whether Wyatt could actually help Owen." Cristina pulled two plates from the cupboard and set them on the table. "I knew you wouldn't understand."

"He tried to kill you! Now a few weeks in therapy and a handful of drugs and you're back with him? You're right, I don't understand!"

"He's not sleeping in my bed."

"Cristina!"

"No." Cristina placed both hands on the table and closed her eyes. She could not bear the accusations, not after everything she had gone through with Owen and now Izzy. Meredith's grief and anger did not give her license to pass sentence on Owen. In this moment Cristina hated her new found sensitivity. Hated—and loved—Owen for drawing out what was ultimately the better part of her. "This has to stop now," she whispered, slowly looking up into Meredith's worried face. "Today, right now, this has to stop."

"I'm worried about you."

"I know but I can't let you decide what's best for me anymore than I can decide what's best for you." Cristina sank into a chair. "I told you months ago that I thought it was a bad idea for you and Derek to move in together. You did it anyway and it turned out to be a good thing."

"Derek didn't tell one of our closest friends to join the army!"

"Meredith, Owen did not tell George to join the army and he didn't throw him under that damn bus!" Cristina wrenched the cloth band from her hair and wrapped it around her restless fingers. "He feels awful about what happened. Guilty because if George hadn't enlisted he would have been in surgery with the Chief and not standing on a corner next to Amanda."

Meredith crossed the kitchen to grab some utensils from a drawer. "Owen was George's mentor," she mumbled as she returned to the table and popped open the take-out containers. "He could have told George anything when they worked together. You don't know…"

"Owen was a soldier and he deserves respect for what he did over there. Even Derek thinks so." Cristina spooned some noodles and spicy vegetables onto her plate. She remembered being surprised and secretly pleased when Owen told her what Derek had said during George's surgery. "He was proud that George joined the service because he believes in the work being done over there, despite what happened to him."

"So he's proud." Meredith spat, slumping into a chair. "He's also dangerous."

Cristina rested her arms on the table. "I can't change your mind about Owen and I'm sick of trying. All I can tell you is that this feels right…right like nothing else ever has."

"You thought you felt that way about Burke, remember?"

Cristina grimaced. "Owen is nothing like Burke." She picked up her fork and stabbed a bite of carrots and shoots. "Owen asked me to meet him halfway and that's what I'm going to do." She popped the vegetables into her mouth and did not look away from Meredith's incredulous stare.

"Cristina, why are you so willing to take a chance with him?"

"Why did you hang around when Derek was seeing Rose last year? Why did you go back out to the woods even after he batted your ring into the trees? The real reason not…" Cristina swallowed hard. "Not because Izzy had a brain tumor."

"You know why."

"Just say it would you!"

"Because I love Derek."

Cristina took another bite of vegetables.

"You _love_ him?"

Cristina stood up to rummage in a drawer for a corkscrew. Finding it, she turned back and addressed the wine bottle with the hint of a smile playing on her lips.

"You told Owen you love him? _To his face_?"

She pulled the cork free with a triumphant little grunt. "Yes."

"I can't believe you didn't tell me this…"

"Why?" Cristina tossed the corkscrew into the sink and poured them both a glass of wine. "I didn't tell you that he considered reenlisting because he didn't know how he could possibly fit in here after what happened between us. And I didn't tell you that I went with him to see his mother the night before Izzy died either." Cristina sat down and picked up a glass. She studied the play of the kitchen light in the pale blush for several seconds before looking up. "Meredith, I'm not the same person I was the day Burke walked out. I'm stronger and maybe…maybe a little more open."

"You hugged me."

She smirked. "I _think_ that's a good thing and do you know why it happened?"

"Owen?"

"Yes." Cristina took a sip of wine and set the glass aside. "You need to give him the benefit of the doubt. He's not going anywhere and if he did decide that Seattle isn't the right place for him anymore, I might just follow him."

"You're that committed to this relationship?"

"I'm committed to supporting Owen, not to being his crutch or punching bag. You should know me better than that." A sigh seeped out of her pursed lips. "Stepping back nearly killed both of us but it had to be until he made the choice to stop running from his problems and face them. I won't let him fall and he won't let me fall either."

"And you're sure about that?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because no matter how screwed up he's been these last months, he's always tried to listen. Even when I didn't want him to." Cristina shook her head, mildly amazed at the simple truth.

"Well you're either committed or committable," Meredith griped.

Cristina rolled her eyes. "You might not be the best person to judge."

"What do you mean?"

"A post-it wedding?" Cristina chased down another bite of food with a drink of wine. "Did you think I gave you the notes and my favorite pen, which you still have by the way, so you could write your vows and stick them in the back of a locker?"

"You knew I didn't want anything fancy. That was Izzy's day…It always was."

Cristina's insides clenched in empathy to the tears standing in Meredith's eyes. The two of them sat in silence for a long time until Meredith broke it with a nervous laugh.

"Derek and I are married enough for us."

"It's not even legal, Mer. At least make it legal so any little Shepherd spawn running around with perfect hair will know what name to put on their school notebooks."

"Cristina…"

"I'm serious!" The vehemence of her reaction brought Cristina up short. She sucked in a steadying breath. "Get the papers signed and stand up in front of someone, even if it's just the clerk at city hall. Until you do that Mer, you haven't really committed to Derek Shepherd."

Meredith picked up her glass and swirled the wine around. Her eyes softened and her lips pulled into a pensive frown as the seconds ticked to minutes. Cristina watched in silence, intimately familiar with the urge to run away from the one thing they both craved in their lives.

"I don't want some anonymous clerk," Meredith whispered. "If I'm going to do this then I want you to be there. I want to do it right."

Cristina smiled. "Then I have an idea."

**To be continued…**


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Grey's Anatomy is the property of ABC television, Shonda Rhimes and Co. No copyright infringement is intended.

Committed—Part Three

Owen parked his blue pickup a few feet away from Derek Shepherd's car. The sandy parking lot was empty. The inclement weather made the beach inhospitable to the average tourist and oddly perfect for their purposes. "I can't believe we both thought of this place last night."

"Weird," Cristina muttered as she unclipped her seatbelt.

"In a good way." Owen reached out and brushed a stray curl behind her ear. Cristina was dressed in a burgundy sweater and a pair of black slacks that lightly hugged her every curve. Her hair was held back with a plain cloth band, exposing just enough of her neck to drive his pulse rate right into the stratosphere. He let his fingers linger on the soft skin below her ear and smiled. "You look beautiful."

"Oh cut it out. You sound like a frat boy looking to score."

"Then it's a good thing you didn't put your hair all the way up or we wouldn't make it out of the truck." Cristina rolled her eyes but the flush of heat beneath his fingers told the real story. She did not move as he leaned across to kiss her gently on the lips.

She smiled against his mouth. "They're waiting."

"So?"

Cristina kissed him quickly and then slipped out of the truck. She walked over to Derek's car and leaned into the open window to speak to Meredith. Derek popped up from the driver's side a moment later and nodded a greeting. Owen nodded back but made no move to get out of the truck.

Devoid of more pleasant activities, his restless hands settled on the steering wheel and his mind strayed to the past. The last time he had visited this beach was the day before he left for his final tour in Iraq. The vestiges of the ice storm had melted away and full Indian summer baked the sand and stones. It was a day of body surfing and a night of campfires and conversation. Good memories now tinged with darkness as only ghosts of the men he saw that day remained. Today was as important to Cristina and himself as it was to Derek and Meredith. His first chance to construct new, positive memories on the backs of the old ones. Fine in theory not so easy in practice Owen realized as a rush of blood prickled his skin and the taste of iron flooded his mouth. The scents of salt and seaweed were sharp in his nostrils and the voices of a dozen comrades sounded in his ears. Owen focused on Cristina waiting in front of the truck and concentrated on his breathing as Wyatt had advised. Willing his heart to slow and his hands to relax their iron grip, he counted backwards from a thousand. He reached five hundred before the sensations associated with the memories began to slowly subside.

"Are you okay?" Cristina asked quietly when he joined her a couple minutes later.

"I used to love this beach." He smiled weakly. "I'll learn to love it again."

"You can't force it, Owen." At his nod, she gestured towards Meredith standing silhouetted against the water. "Meredith wants to talk to you first."

Owen cocked a curious eyebrow. "Why?"

"She didn't tell me."

The statement did not ring entirely true. Owen waited, hoping she would elaborate. Cristina merely shook her head and gave his shoulder a firm shove. Irritated and more unsettled than he cared to admit, Owen walked across the shifting beach. He kept his expression carefully neutral as he approached Meredith.

She turned towards the ocean when Owen drew abreast of her. "You think your relationship with Cristina is none of my business?"

He nodded, knowing she was watching out of the corner of her eye.

Meredith dragged stray strands of hair out of her face. "I was happy when she started seeing you. Her last relationship…didn't end well." She frowned and forced her hands into her pockets. "I thought you were good for her. She seemed…happy. And that's not like Cristina."

Owen blinked the wind tears from his eyes and braced for the anger simmering just beneath the surface of her reasonable tone.

"And then you nearly killed her and your relationship became my business," Meredith kept her eyes on the horizon line, her voice low and sharp as a scalpel. "She told me what happened that night. Told me you were wounded and that I should butt out. Then she stopped talking about you entirely and I thought it was over. And now you're together again and I don't care what happened in Iraq or how screwed up it made you." Meredith bit her lip and turned to look him in the eye. "We're not in the Pit or in an O.R. You're no one to me except the person who has somehow changed my friend. I don't want to like you because of what happened but hating you isn't an option because you mean too much to her and…she means too much to you."

She was angry and honest and Owen respected her for it. Liked her, even if she would never genuinely reciprocate the feeling. There was only one way to respond to the fear lying beneath the courage that had allowed her to speak. "Why are you here today, Meredith?"

"You know why. In fact it was partly your idea."

"You could have signed the papers at city hall and gone home without coming to this beach. You didn't _need_ Cristina and you didn't _want_ me," Owen pointed out patiently. "So why are you here?"

Meredith shrugged.

"You're here to make a public commitment to Derek Shepherd. Not just a legal one."

"You don't know anything about us."

"I know he loves you."

She pushed irritably at her flying bangs. "So why are you here?"

"My reasons aren't so different from yours. A commitment to building something new on the bones of something old." He bit back a weary sigh and shook his head. "You don't have to like me and I don't expect you to understand what happened that night in Cristina's apartment. I do respect who you are to Cristina. I simply ask that you do the same for me." He turned away. Unsure if he had said enough or too much. Certain only that trust lay in Meredith's hands and not in his.

Owen did not stop walking until he reached the jumble of rocks Cristina was sitting on. With a grunt of effort he climbed up and sat beside her. "You knew what she wanted to say?"

Cristina nodded.

"Thanks for the warning."

"I promised her I wouldn't say anything."

"In exchange for letting me come along?" Owen did not expect the shades of guilt and remorse that darkened her eyes. He offered a small smile to ease the sting. "I knew it was coming. It was just a matter of time."

"She means well."

"I wouldn't have stood there and listened if she didn't."

"That easy?"

He laughed. "No!"

"So, now what?"

"Now we do what we came here to do." He tentatively covered the hand resting on her thigh with his. After a moment's hesitation, Cristina's hand turned over and their fingers laced loosely together. Owen felt the tension ebb away with the unfamiliar sensation. Cristina did not hold hands or embrace easily. Each touch was a gift. The kiss on the bridge the day of Izzy's death easily the bravest act she had initiated since they met nearly a year ago. He yearned for more, impatient with her fears and his own troublesome emotions. Wishing he had the strength to teach her the simple joy of touch.

"You were thinking about your unit earlier?"

He nodded mutely.

"Do you want to talk about them later?"

Owen blinked into the wind. His thumb rubbed her palm in jerky strokes. "Maybe," he murmured hoarsely. "Maybe later."

"Okay." Cristina gestured to the couple standing on the beach. "I think they're ready for us.

Owen nodded reluctantly and rose to help her down from the rocks. Back on the sand he started to release her hand. Cristina tightened her grip and held on for a several seconds before letting go. Owen trailed after her, grateful for her concern and the gesture of comfort that followed. The residual heat of her touch made his palm tingle and he pulled up his coat collar to hide a smile that might embarrass her.

"Okay?" Cristina asked when they were both close enough to be heard over the waves.

Meredith glanced at Derek and shrugged. "Ready?"

"Definitely," he answered, bending to kiss her lightly on the mouth.

"Jumping the gun, aren't you?" Owen teased good-naturedly.

Meredith rolled her eyes.

Cristina pointed to the crinkled post-it note in Derek's hand. "So, let's hear them."

Derek flashed a sheepish grin and cleared his throat. "I Derek Shepherd promise to love you Meredith Grey even when I hate you. No running, ever, nobody walks out no matter what happens. I promise to take care of you even when we're old and smelly and senile. And if you get Alzheimer's I will remind you every day of who I am. This is forever." He reached out and gently brushed the hair from her eyes. "Your turn."

Meredith licked her lips. Her eyes jumped to Cristina and then Owen before sliding back to Derek. Taking a deep breath, she plucked the post-it from his fingers. "I Meredith Grey promise to love you Derek Shepherd even when I hate you. No running, ever, nobody walks out no matter what happens. I promise to take care of you even when we're old and grey. And if you get Alzheimer's I will remind you every day of who I am. This is forever." She held the note by the edges to show Cristina and Owen the signatures.

"Now you may kiss the bride," Owen said softly. As the newlyweds came together he looked at Cristina. Her smile was restrained, her thoughts obviously divided. He fingered the folded slip of paper in his pocket and wondered if the timing was right.

"Do you want to get a drink at Joe's?"

Owen flinched at the unexpected question. Meredith had turned to face Cristina but her attention was focused on him.

"I think Owen has something he wants to say first." Derek interjected.

"What?" Meredith and Cristina asked in unison.

Owen shifted nervously from foot to foot. For a second, he was annoyed at Derek for taking the decision to act out of his hands. Confronted by Cristina's curious and vaguely alarmed expression however, he knew there would never be a better time.

"What's this about?" Meredith demanded. "You're not…"

Derek slipped an arm around her shoulders. "Give the man a chance to talk."

Owen quirked a lip to acknowledge the comment then his eyes flicked to Meredith. Registering the challenge and the cautious overture of acceptance the drink offer had been. Forcing down an anxious shudder, he focused on Cristina.

The declaration was Derek's idea: a thank you for suggesting how he might solidify his bond with Meredith. Owen rejected it at first. He and Cristina had just gotten back together and the incident in the Pit proved how tetchy his recovery process could be. The argument held no water for Derek and Owen quickly found himself on the receiving end of the same reasoning he had used earlier in the evening. He left the Emerald City bar a few minutes later and spent several hours pondering what he might say. The first light of dawn dredged up a few simple words. Owen jotted them down still unsure if he would actually have the courage to speak when the time came.

Standing on the windswept beach with his heart pounding harder than the surf, Owen made a decision and left the paper in his pocket. The words were reminders of where he had been, not where his heart was hoping to go. He reached out and took Cristina's cold hands in his. "I asked you out and then I showed up drunk. I asked you for another chance and you said yes. I pushed you away but you would not leave. I fell apart…and you put me back together. You listened even when you didn't want to hear." He squeezed her fingers and she squeezed back. Owen sighed jaggedly as the next words tumbled out. "I hurt you even though I loved…love you more than I can explain. I_ will_ be a better man. A better man _for _you and a better man _with_ you. All I ask is that you meet me halfway."

Cristina held his eyes, her lips moving soundlessly as she considered a reply. Without warning, she pulled him close and kissed him. Her hands slipped from his and the kiss deepened as her fingers stroked the back of his neck and slid down to rest on his shoulders. Owen threaded his fingers through her thick hair and savored the warmth of her eager mouth soft and malleable beneath his. His hands dropped to her shoulders and gently cupped them until they had to pull apart to breathe.

A broad, sweet smile lifted Cristina's cheeks. "Yes," she whispered fervently. "Yes!"

~THE~END~


End file.
